


Steel and Bone

by MercuryHomophony



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Hair Washing, M/M, Shorts, mentions of alphyne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryHomophony/pseuds/MercuryHomophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of shorts about Mettaton and Papyrus as they adapt to the Surface</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hair

**Author's Note:**

> (I just got a haircut, and this is just… a completely self indulgent result. also, shoutout to @veryhappybirb for the encouragement :3 Enjoy!)
> 
> As a robot, Mettaton is not fond of washing his own hair…

“Hello, Papy.” Papyrus looked up from the action figure he was posing, his face lighting up when he saw who it was.

“Mettaton!” He scrambled to stand, quickly striding over to the door to greet his boyfriend. “I wasn’t expecting you over so soon! Didn’t your show just end?”

“We pre-recorded the last bit,” the robot replied, flipping his hair dramatically and frowning. It was starting to get frizzy, and that just wouldn’t do… “Burgerpants was actually doing his job _well_ today, so I had a little extra time to run through it before the show actually started.” He walked past Papyrus, letting one hand run across his shoulders, before flopping on the couch in a perfect pose, one leg bent, one hand just touching the floor, and the other draped over the back of the couch. “But even then, it was quite the busy day…”

He less than begrudgingly shifted over when Papyrus came to sit with him, leaning back against the skeleton and sighing when a bony arm wrapped itself gently around his chest plate.

“Sounds like you’re worn out,” Papyrus said sympathetically, squeezing him in a one armed hug. Mettaton lay his hands over it, keeping it close to his chest.

“Mm-hmm…” He closed his eyes, then frowned petulantly, puffing a little to get his hair out of his eye. He needed to talk to Alphys about getting some different synthetic hair. Not that his wasn’t _perfect_ … but the effort that it took to keep it that way was starting to get tiring. “Not to mention, my hair has a mind of its own today.”

“That sounds… alarming.”

Mettaton let out a light laugh. “Not _literally_ , Pap,” he chuckled, reaching a hand up to run it through his hair. “I just mean, it keeps getting so frazzled. Not becoming of the Underground’s number 1 star.”

“Oh, I see…” Mettaton barely managed to keep himself from jumping when a padded mitten landed in his hair, and resisted the urge to sigh. Now it would be static-y too. “How do you keep it from getting frazzled, then?”

“I have to wash it,” Mettaton pouted. “It’s no fun. At all.” Even with the protective casing Alphys had built him with, the idea of having _water_ so close to all his precious machinery was loathsome. Not to mention, the only ways to wash _just_ his hair was to either bend over backwards, where he couldn’t see what he was doing, or bend over forwards, where he couldn’t see anything _but_ what he was doing.

…not to mention, the latter messed up his makeup something awful.

“…” Mettaton tilted his head a little, to look at the skeleton. It was unlike Papyrus to stay quiet this long. He had his sockets fixed on the robot’s hair (or so Mettaton thought - it was hard to tell, sometimes), and he seemed deep in thought. “Maybe… maybe I could help?”

His mouth quirked, curious. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I just thought… if you don’t like washing it, what if I washed it for you?” Papyrus must have seen the confusion on his face. “After all, it’s always more fun to do things with friends! And… well, it might be nicer, than doing it on your own!”

Mettaton honestly considered turning him down - much as he loved Papyrus, he also knew that one of the skeleton’s best, and worst, qualities was his enthusiasm. And he was a little concerned what that might do to his hair.

On the other hand… he really didn’t want to do it, but it had to get done. If Papyrus ruffled it up more, then he’d be no worse than he started - he’d still have to fix it. But if Papyrus did well, then…

And, he supposed, if it made the skeleton happy…

“Do you want to?” he asked. Papyrus beamed.

“Oh yes! You have very lovely hair, Mettaton. I’d be so glad to help you keep it nice!”

Well, how could he say no to that? “Very well, Papyrus. Let’s do it.”

 

—

 

“To be honest, I’m a little surprised - have you washed hair before?” Mettaton was watching Papyrus put together a setup - they’d be working in the bathroom, with a sink that was fortunately lower than the one in the kitchen. Mettaton had been worried that, with the fact that Papyrus had no hair of his own, he might not have the best idea of how to wash someone else’s. But, with the way he was carefully setting things up, and by the looks of the shampoo he was pulling out, it seemed as if he not only had an idea, but actual practice, too.

“Oh yes!” Papyrus enthused, looking up from two bottles he’d been deciding between. “Toriel and Sans have to go to these school meetings regularly, and so I babysit Frisk quite often. They are not all that great at washing their own hair, however, so on bath nights, I help them out!” He tucked one bottle back under the sink, and struck an impressive pose. “I have become something of an expert in hair washing!”

“Well, that’s what I need,” Mettaton purred back, spurred by the skeleton’s display of confidence.

“Excellent!” Papyrus stood, finished with his final touches, and gestured grandly to the setup. “Please, have a seat!”

It was just a kitchen chair, but it had been carefully adjusted and propped to allow the sitter to safely lean back, resting their head and neck comfortably on a pillow of towels that Papyrus had made. Papyrus had… _adjusted_ the faucet, somehow, leaving plenty of room in the sink for his head. And despite how quickly the whole thing had been put together, it certainly looked… cozy.

Mettaton smiled, and sat down, careful not to tip the chair too much, or hit his head as he got settled. When he was finally comfortable, he gave the skeleton a little nod. Papyrus beamed, reaching over him to turn the water on.

Mettaton closed his eyes and tried not to grimace at the sensation of water over his scalp - with this setup, it wasn’t anywhere near his main mechanisms, so there was no reason to worry. Instead, he tried to relax into it. He did jump when bony fingers, not mittens, started to run through his locks, parting them out with a surprisingly delicate touch, making sure the water flowed over all of it. He felt his bangs being pushed back, out of his face, and enjoyed the light touch of bone on synthetic flesh. There were careful tugs on his scalp as Papyrus combed through his hair, and he started to feel the tension seep out of him, melting back into the chair.

The water was warm, nearly hot, though that wasn’t a problem for him, and he could feel the steam in the air over him. One hand trailed up the back of his neck, carefully combing the hair up, and cradling the back of his head, allowing him to fully relax, supported by the skeleton. The water shut off. He heard a click, smelled something… fruity? And then there was a second skeletal hand back in his hair, massaging the shampoo into his roots, working through it in segments… He sighed. This was much better than doing it himself, by far. Papyrus’s fingers were firm, but not harsh, building up a lather out of the shampoo. Mettaton wondered if that was more difficult, what with having phalanges instead of flesh. He supposed his own luscious hair made it easier.

A stray fleck of soap strayed down his forehead, and he felt the hands pause, before one delicate fingertip traced over his skin, wiping it away, and he sighed again. He was so caught up in big things, he thought to himself - big projects, big shows, bigger, bigger bigger… but here, eyes shut, under the delicate hair care of his skeletal boyfriend… there was the definite thought that he may want to enjoy the small things more often. Especially these small touches.

The water came on again. Papyrus carefully rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, though there was a sharp tug as a few strands got caught between his phalanges. Normally, Mettaton might have fussed over it, but even with the little pain it came with, the experience was still too pleasant to ruin with dramatics.

And that was saying something, for him.

Next came the conditioner, and Papyrus used the same level of care here, combing it through, fingertips running over the robot’s scalp lightly, soothingly, giving Mettaton a pleasant tingle that ran down his back and settled in his core.

“How’s this?” Papyrus asked. Quiet and Papyrus were two words that didn’t mix often, or well… but the skeleton seemed to be making an effort to keep his normally boisterous voice to a moderate level. “Is this… okay?”

“Better than okay, Pap, you’re a _saint,_ ” Mettaton replied in a groan, stretching one leg out. “That’s _lovely_.”

“Oh! Good!” Papyrus would be flustered, both by his words and his tone, Mettaton knew. He could imagine the little pink flush to his cheekbones, the inexplicable way his eye-sockets would shift into an upturned, bashful expression.

Papyrus seemed to take longer with the conditioner than he had with the shampoo, running his finger-bones through the locks quite thoroughly, making sure everything, from the nape of his neck to the shorter hairs around his ears (recently installed, to help fit in better with the human stars). If Papyrus was a more… lascivious person, like himself, he might have thought his boyfriend was up to something… but no, Papyrus was such a sweetheart, and things like that were often far from his mind. These touches were genuine love, done for the sake of the touches themselves, without motive, and in show business, that was so rare… And then the skeleton’s fingertips rested against his temples, rubbing in small, deliberate circles, and Mettaton could literally feel the stress melting out of him.

Mettaton wondered if he’d be willing to do this again sometime. He wouldn’t want to be a burden, but if the skeleton enjoyed it too, maybe they could make this a regular thing.

The water came on again, and though this time his sigh was weighted with some disappointment, it evaporated as Papyrus combed through his hair one last time, rinsing the slick substance from his hair. He could feel the texture of his rock star mane - smooth, probably soft once it dried.

He almost started to sit up when the water turned off at last, but metacarpal on his forehead stopped him, and he blinked up a the skeleton, confused… But the skeleton had turned away, reaching for something behind him. He pulled out a fluffy towel, and Mettaton let his eyes fall closed again, enjoying the attentive way Papyrus wrapped it underneath his head, gently ruffling his hair to soak up all the excess water.

“All right, Mettaton!” he finally said, pulling the towel away. “You can sit up, now! I, uh… don’t know if you want to style it, or anything. The human mostly just lets it air dry, but I know that it can be more complicated than that, too.”

Mettaton sat up and frowned a little, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’ll have to talk to Frisk about that - their hair would look _wonderful_ styled…” He trailed off, mulling over the possibilities. He was so _relaxed_ , and he was great at lounging, but right now he felt like he could just sink into a plush bedspread and not get up for hours…

Papyrus was looking at him expectantly. He ran a hand through his hair. Still damp, and would probably do some odd stuff if he didn’t bother to style it… but, for once, he didn’t really care. He smiled at Papyrus.

“I think I’ll just let it be, for now. After all, you did such a great job.” Papyrus beamed at the praise, puffing his chest out.

“Well, I _did_ say I’m an expert,” he bragged, and Mettaton laughed.

“That you did.” He slowly stood, reluctant to actually move too much, lest that relaxed feeling seep out of his metal body. “Now, what say you we go cuddle, and I read you a story?”

And Papyrus was as enthusiastic as ever.


	2. Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First BiAnnual MTT Karaoke Slash Backup-singer Tryouts are about to begin! And what’s this? We have a special contestant~!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, but there's a second part to it! Sorry for the lag, I've been adjusting to the new semester :3  
> Shoutout to StardustSky for the prompt~ I hope you enjoy it :3  
> Thanks~!

“I am so excited!” Papyrus said for the third time that car ride. Next to him, in the driver’s seat, Sans chuckled.  
  
“No kidding? I never would have guessed,” the elder said good-naturedly, before looking up to check the rear-view mirror. “Hey, kiddo, how we doin’ back there?”  
  
Pap looked over his own shoulder to see Frisk giving them a thumbs up from the backseat, grinning widely. They had recently gotten something done with a human ‘dentist,’ and this dentist had put these nifty metal bands across their teeth, in a variety of colors. ‘I got to choose!’ Frisk had signed to the skeleton brothers after the fact. ‘And later, I can change them too!’  
  
Right now, they were red and blue. In honor of their favorite skeletons, the young human declared. Papyrus was often astounded even now by how infatuated the little human was with him. And, of course, his brother, who was pulling in to the parking lot at their stop.  
  
“Here we are.” He put the car in park outside the front doors, sighing a little as he relaxed his legs from the pedals. Papyrus knew that driving with such short legs, even in a car modified for it, was tiring. He was proud of his brother for learning, though. “Now, I’m coming back to pick you up in a few hours, right?”  
  
“That is correct!” Papyrus and Frisk got out of the car, and Sans rolled the window down to grin at them. “And you have your cell with you if we are finished before then, correct?”  
  
“Yup.” Sans lifted it for show, then slid the device back into his hoodie pocket. “And I’ll just be down the road with Toriel, so… huh, what’s up, kid?”  
  
Frisk was waving for attention, and bounded over to the open window, leaning forward and signing.  
  
“A secret, huh? Well, let’s hear it.”  
  
Surprisingly, Frisk leaned forward further, cupping their hands around their mouth to whisper something. Sans listened with his usual good natured grin, but as Papyrus watched them, it became just a note strained. He even swear he saw a dusting of blue over his cheekbones.  
  
Frisk stepped back, apparently pleased by their handiwork, and Sans leaned back into the car, definitely blushing. “Ah, yeah, sure… I will… get right on that, kid,” he said, more quickly than he usually spoke. “I’m uh… well, bye!”  
  
He didn’t “take off” - Sans would never be the kind of person who “took off,” no matter what the vehicle. He could have gotten into a rocket ship to space, and would have found a way to blast off at an ambulatory pace. But, his departure was certainly flustered and hastened. The two watched as he drove off, turning and heading off in the wrong direction, before disappearing behind some buildings.  
  
“When will he remember, that doesn’t work in cars?” Papyrus wondered aloud in exasperation. Frisk shrugged, and he looked down at them. “What did you tell him, anyways?”  
  
They just winked up at them, signing ‘A secret!’  
  
“Well, don’t forget what Toriel told you,” he replied, taking their hand and heading inside together. “Secret secrets are no fun, unless they’re shared with everyone!” He paused, holding the door open for the small human. “Although… that doesn’t exactly make them secrets anymore, does it?” Frisk shook their head, but he wasn’t looking at them anymore. “I think they probably have to change that saying…”  
  
“Papyrus~!”  
  
He looked over the crowd of people, and caught a familiar face beaming towards him. “Ah! I believe we’ve found our host!” he declared, reaching one hand out to Frisk. The human caught it in their own tiny one, and the two made their way through the mob of people. The room was abuzz with excitement for the event - after all, how often was it that a real live star hosted an event like this?  
  
Well, Papyrus knew that Metta wanted to run them frequently. But he didn’t tell anyone that. He would have hated to dampen their enthusiasm.  
  
They finally broke free of the crowd, into a clearing guarded by two very familiar faces. Frisk waved at the 01 and 02.  
  
“Aw hey, little bud!” 02 said, offering his hand for a fist-bump. Even with him reaching down, Frisk had to jump to return it. “You guys here for the show? The boss is really excited for it, right 02?”  
  
“…” 02 didn’t say anything, but the three of them could feel the sense of affirmation in his ellipsis.  
  
“Right! Well, anyways… the boss is right up there. The show starts pretty soon, though, so he won’t be able to talk long.”  
  
“We understand. We’re just here to wish him luck!” Papyrus “nyeh-heh-heh’d” to himself. “Not that Mettaton needs it, of course!”  
  
“But I’ll take all the well-wishes I can get, from a cutie like you!” Mettaton popped up from behind his bodyguards, positively glowing as he blew Papyrus a kiss. “Oh! Frisk, you made it too!”  
  
Papyrus blushed a little, ‘catching’ the thrown kiss and enjoying the feeling of butterflies in his ribcage. Frisk was busy signing something to Mettaton, but he had missed the beginning of it. Mettaton seemed quite enthused about it, however.  
  
“Well! I’ll be sure to remember that, darling,” the robot said, looping one metallic arm over 01 to gently pat Frisk on the head. They grinned at him, shooting him a pair of thumbs up. He turned back to Papyrus.  
“I wish I could stay and chat a little longer,” he said, smiling apologetically, “but I’m afraid the show is about to start - we can catch up more afterward!”  
  
“That would be great! But please, don’t let us hold up your show!”  
  
Mettaton smiled again, a little less manic, a little more genuine - more like his private smiles, just for Papyrus. “I wouldn’t mind holding up a performance for you, darling,” he murmured, before snapping back into showbiz mode. “But, you’re right! The show must go on, and it must go on… now!” He vanished behind his bodyguards, and either their timing had been perfect, or the robot had given the lighting crew some sort of signal, because at that point, the room’s lights dimmed, and the crowd went nuts in anticipation.  
  
Mettaton strode out on stage to start the evening. Now, normally, Papyrus would have been hanging on every word that fell from his perfectly hot pink lips.  
  
Tonight, however, he had plans.  
  
“Now!” Papyrus rounded, hands on his hips and leaning down to the small human’s level. “Are you ready to help me surprise Mettaton?”  
  
Frisk nodded so enthusiastically that he worried the young human’s head might pop clear off their shoulders. He administered a gentle bop on the noggin to stop that from happening. “Good! Now, let’s go put in a word with Napstablook!”


End file.
